


I Will Sing for You Every Day If It Will Take Away the Pain

by PagebyPaige



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Fluff, M/M, Self Harm, Suicide, eventually, everything will be okay, in which the author stresses too much, its cute at the end I swear, my longest fic so far, not really major character death ;), okay I give up I know it's shit but if it keep analyzing it it'll never get posted so here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 18:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9915962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PagebyPaige/pseuds/PagebyPaige
Summary: Pete is in trouble. Because of that Patrick is in trouble. Which worsens Pete's trouble. What they don't realize is that they need to fix each other to fix themselves.





	1. 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deadly_Sirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadly_Sirius/gifts).



> Trigger warnings for depression, attempted suicide, etc. I don't condone any of this, but it's something I've needed to put into writing.
> 
> Title from Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy
> 
> NOTE: I know, believe me I know, that not all the songs used are post-hiatus. I know they aren't all in the same album. I know that wasn't the SRAR setlist. I know. I messed with some timelines for the sake of this fic, so please forgive me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete is having a hard time not making life hard for everyone around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete has some... issues. This is the chapter with the biggest trigger warning so read at your own risk.
> 
> Chapter title is 7 Minutes in Heaven (Atavan Halen) which is, indeed, a Fall Out Boy song.

_Why aren't you here?_ Pete can't quite get up the will to cross the room. Or do anything, for that matter. He looks at his phone, lying on the dresser across the room. He could call Patrick. _Patrick doesn't want to deal with your problems. That's why he left. That's why you're sitting here, too pathetic to get out of bed: you don't have Patrick to suffer through this for you._

Pete knows the real reason this band is on a break, why he's sitting here doing nothing with his life: Patrick doesn't love him. Pete told Patrick, at last, who his lyrics were really about, and Patrick ran. As he should have. How, really, was Pete expecting to ask his best friend to sing lyrics Pete wrote about him?

Pete drags himself up and goes to look in the mirror. He can taste the salt from his own dried tears on his face. They begin to fall again as he looks at himself. _Why would someone like Patrick love him anyway? Pete can't even remember to shower regularly!_ Speaking of showering... he glances behind him, and sees his razor, sitting on its ledge. _No,_  he tells himself firmly.  _Patrick wouldn't like that._

Pete swivels back around, glaring at his own reflection. Now, his eyes wander to his medicine cabinet. He glances one more time at the monster in the mirror. _Patrick doesn't care. Patrick shouldn't care. You're not his problem._ His eyes find the bottle of Ativan. _You won't be his problem, not anymore. He doesn't deserve that._

Pete snatches the bottle off of the shelf. He shuffles back into his bedroom and from there slowly works his way into the kitchen, grabbing his phone on impulse and keys on the way.

Before he even knows it, Pete is in his car, driving. He pulls into a Wal-Mart parking lot and, noticing the vacancy, finally checks the time. 2am. _Good_ , he thinks, _Patrick won't know until he wakes up, at least._ He considers for a moment. _Maybe it'll be a nice surprise._

Feeling nostalgic, Pete opens his phone. He beings to scroll through his IM's with Patrick. Sweet notes, corny jokes, the occasional "Pete ur late what u doing?" From Patrick, which is to be expected.

Leaving his phone on Patrick's contact, Pete shuts it off. Sobbing loudly enough to that his body trembles with the force of it, Pete unscrews the cap.

Pete has just begun shaking far too many pills into his palm when he hears a rapping at his window. Startled, he looks up.

At Pete's window is a blond kid with a trucker hat and sideburns. For a second, Pete almost believes that it's Patrick. The thought makes him cry harder.

"Hey!" The kid is now pounding on the window with his fist. "Open up!" Dazed and lacking a rational mind, Pete opens the car door. He wishes the kid would just leave him in peace so he can get on with getting rid of himself.

The boy quickly confiscates the pill bottle and overturns his pill-filled palm onto the asphalt below them. Pete tries weakly to grab at them, at anything, but fails.

"Hey," the boy says gently, "You're okay." The kid takes Pete's phone from where it rests beside him and clicks it on.

Pete reacts too slowly, trying to grab at his cell. Before he can get there, the boy has pressed the call button underneath the number displayed on screen.

"Pete?" Patrick's sleepy voice is like a slap in the face. _Oh, look what you did now. You woke him up!_

"Uh, hi. I'm Carter, and I've got a situation."

"Okay, Carter," Patrick says, obviously trying to stay calm. "Can you tell me why you're calling me from my friend's phone at 2am?"

"I-uh. Well... we're in a Wal-Mart parking lot, and I found your friend here with a handful of pills."

"Oh my god! Is he okay? Have you called his parents? Have you called the police? Have you called anyone? Can I talk to him? Where are you?"

"Uh, I didn't get all that but he's okay, I just called you because your number was up on his phone, we're at the Wal-Mart near his house?" Pete nods his confirmation, "Yeah, and yes you can talk to him, if he wants to?"

"Okay, let me talk to him," Patrick says, his tone urgent.

"Um, okay, here you go." The moment the phone is in his hands, Pete tries to cover up.

"Pete? Pete are you crying? Oh my god of course you're crying! I'm coming right now, okay?" Pete remains silent until the final question reaches his ears.

"No." He chokes out, against his own wishes. Patrick will not see him like this, again, being a problem.

"Yes, Pete. I'm coming." Pete makes a small noise of protest before sitting back and resigning himself to crying.

\---

Patrick pulls up to a sight he'll never forget: in the faint light of a Wal-Mart parking lot, a boy that resembles teenage Patrick leans again the open door of Pete Wentz's car.

As soon as he stops is car, he's closing the short distance between them. He sees Pete, his head in his hands, crying in the drivers seat. Carter rests against the side of the car, a hand hovering awkwardly over Pete's shoulder.

Not meaning to be rude, Patrick shoves the kid out of the way, reaching out to Pete. At first, Pete falls into the embrace like he always does, but then stiffens and tries to shake off Patrick's arm. Undeterred, Patrick retracts his arm and takes to speaking gently to his friend.

"Hey Pete? It's okay, shh, it's okay. I'm here." Pete remains stoically silent.

"Okay then Pete," Patrick's shoulders drop, exhaustion catching up to him. "Let's get you home."

"Hey, you! Carter! Help me out over here?" Patrick calls to the young boy hovering outside. The kid runs over, eager to help. "Help me move him to the passenger side, will you?" The two boys pick up Pete like a child and carry him around to the passenger side of his own car.

Once Pete is safely situated in the car, Patrick thanks Carter profusely. Seeing the dubious look in Carter's eyes at Patrick climbing into the drives seat of Pete's car, Patrick explains by handing him his keys.

"If you don't mind, follow me to his house in my car? Once we get him home I'll drive you back out here to get yours."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine, now let's get going."

As soon as the door has closed, Patrick begins his interrogation.

"Something got you like this, Pete. Don't expect me to believe otherwise. You might as well tell me." Pete simply sighs in reply. Patrick, deciding this conversation will be better held at home, spends the rest of the ride in silence.

Once Patrick basically drags Pete back to his bedroom, he realizes just how bad this is. Seeing the mess Pete's been living in reveals to Patrick how little Pete cares.

"Pete. We're talking about this." Patrick says, sitting down on the edge of Pete's bed. He did nearly die, for god's sake.

"Pete... you can talk to me." Patrick tries again, this time more gently.

"No." Pete's sudden outburst surprises his friend. "No, I can't."

"Well why not?" Patrick asks, confused and getting frustrated.

"Because I love you." Pete says, resigned. "That's why my band is in pieces! That's why I'm a fucking mess! I love you, damnit, and you can't fix that." Patrick is silent. "You can't fix _me_." Pete concludes quietly. After a few moments, Patrick collects himself. Or just gets angry.

"Well, Pete, I damn well tried! It's not my fault you're too fucked up to fix!" It's Pete's turn to be silent.

"Patrick... I-I know." Pete hangs his head. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't put all my problems on you."

"You know Pete, you're damn right. In case you hadn't noticed, I have my own problems!" Patrick's uncharacteristic shouting surprises both boys. Pete opens his mouth to reply, but Patrick cuts him off.

"Just got to sleep, okay?" He leaves no room for argument. He walks out to go to sleep on the couch, leaving Pete to his own bed, alone once again with his thoughts.

 _See, you were right. You put too much on him, and you finally pushed him too far._ Pete forces himself to sleep so as not to worry Patrick further, and wakes up to him gone.

Shuffling into the kitchen, Pete finds a note:  
_That Carter kid brought me my car last night if you don't wake up in time. -Patrick_

Pete, feeling shittier than when everything began, sits down and begins to write.

Sifting through old writing reveals yesterday's work:  
"I'm having another episode, I just need a stronger dose." was clearly scribbled in poor lighting late last night, while "I'm not going home alone, because I don't do to well on my own," is better and more legible.

As Pete sifts through bits and pieces, adding here and there, he begins to cobble together a song.

When Pete gets his intro line, he knows it's finally done. He collects his papers and stands, eager to have Patrick's golden voice turn poetry into song. And then he realizes.

\---

"Hey, Patrick?" Pete's voice quavers more than he would like.

"What is it, Pete?" He hears Patrick sigh on the other end.

"Well, if you're busy..."

"No, Pete, it's fine. Just tell me."

"Okay, well, I have some lyrics for you."

"Pete, you know we're not a band anymore..."

"Yeah, I do. I just- sorry, this was probably a stupid idea. I just wanted to see if you were interested... I've never been any good at writing melodies." _And I want you to understand how I feel but I don't want to be a burden_ , Pete thinks. _And I want to hear you sing again._

"Okay, I'll check them out - email me?"

"Sure, yeah, that's great."

"Bye Pete,"

"Bye..."

As soon as Pete has taken the pictures and they are on their way to Patrick, he regrets it.

He regrets it more when Patrick shows up at his house a few hours later.

\---

"Pete, we're talking." Patrick announces, barging through Pete's front door.

"How did you... what...-"

"-No. Pete, sit down. We're talking." Patrick directs him to his own couch, and Pete is reminded of back when they were just two friends and this was a common occurrence.

Begrudgingly, Pete sits. Patrick plops down right beside him and wastes no time.

"Pete? I keep asking this, but what's going on?" _I want to tell you but I'm a burden; you can't deal with my problems and so I'm resolved to not talk._ "Please?" Patrick begins to plead. Pete gives in too quickly.

"Patrick, I-I'm worried. I have a lot of issues and my lyrics aren't enough to fix them unless you're singing them-" Patrick blushes. "-And now I don't even have that because I threw my problems on you and it was just too much and now I don't have music _or_  my best friend." Pete takes a deep breath before continuing to ramble on. "And even those lyrics, I gave them to you because I desperately need to throw my problems on you but that's not fair because you don't deserve them and I feel like a burden and telling you all the love songs are about you certainly didn't help anything-" Pete cuts off his rambling at last. After Patrick takes his turn with a deep breath and then speaks up.

"Pete, it's okay. Whatever you need, I'll be there to support you. You're not a burden to me." Pete looks at him, skeptical and somewhat shocked. "Oh and by the way, I know what you mean about those new lyrics." Pete just bobs his head. "Now, unless you need anything else, I have to get home." Pete switches to dazedly shaking his head and watches Patrick walk back out his front door. It isn't until he hears Patrick pull out of his driveway that the younger man's final remark sinks in. "I know what you mean about those new lyrics." Pete wonders how Patrick could _possibly_ relate to 7 Minutes. _I should really listen to Soul Punk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or leave kudos *nudges you* :))


	2. What A Catch, Donnie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listening to "Soul Punk" ended up revealing little to Pete about what the younger man was going through. As it turns out, Fall Out Boy has all the answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is indeed another Fall Out Boy song. (see a trend yet?)

Patrick never thought he'd be touring solo, mourning a broken band, and writing lyrics for himself that clearly don't fit the new album, but here he is.

As Patrick sits at his desk, wondering why he isn't writing for the new album, his thoughts wander to a few weeks back, and more specifically Pete. The last time Patrick saw him, he tried to overdose on Ativan, sent Patrick lyrics that absolutely screamed Fall Out Boy, spilled his guts, and stopped communicating again. 

Patrick doesn't know how to handle all of Pete's issues any more than Pete does and yet here he is: Pete's problems thrown onto his shoulders, piled on top of his own problems, the stress of solo work, and just general unhappiness. 

Patrick could never admit it to his face, but Pete was right. Patrick honestly can't handle everything that's being thrown at him, expecially the additional twist that _Pete loves him._

It doesn't help that every show he plays the screams of the crowd match the violent insides of his mind. 

"Fat! Ugly!" The kids he thought were his fans scream at him, matching the cries of his mind.

Patrick hears the shouts of the crowd every time he looks in the mirror these days. He also sees the brokenness of Fall Out Boy fans. Patrick sees failure. 

Shoving his insecurity out of his mind for now, Patrick goes on with his day.

The day itself is fairly routine: rumors, autographs, and photos. That is, until he gets a text. 

 **Pete:** I love you, Patrick. I'm sorry, but that's why I'm alive. 

 _Not this again,_ Patrick thinks. The over-dramatic antics of Pete Wentz are nearly laughable at this point.

 **Patrick:** I know, Pete.

 **Pete:** Patrick, I mean it.

 **Pete:** I love everything about you.

_No you don't._

**Patrick:** Thanks, Pete.

 **Pete:** Sorry, just wanted to say that...

 **Patrick:** gtg, bye

 **Pete:**  bye...

 _Not this again._  Patrick's thoughts begin to wander again, just like every time he thinks about Pete Wentz. _He just pities you,_ his mind jeers. _He thinks he can throw problems on you because you don't matter._ Patrick comes along to a new dark idea, possibly the worst yet. _He thinks you can handle it, but you can't. He thinks you're strong._  And Patrick believes it. Suddenly, it's all he can think of every day when he wakes up: _y_ _ou're not strong enough._

Suddenly he isn't strong enough to talk to Pete, and his calls are ignored on Patrick's phone.

Suddenly he isn't strong enough to endure the insults, and he's missing sound check.

Suddenly he isn't strong enough to live, and

[MULTIPLE ENDINGS:]

ENDING 1: he's lying on the bathroom floor, never to get up again.

ENDING 2: he's outside, crossing the street. Suddenly he seeps Pete driving toward his house and he stops. Frozen, Patrick watches as Pete continues forward, oblivious until it's too late.

[ACTUAL ENDING:]

ENDING 3: Pete is barging through his front door, dramatic as always. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried, but Patrick was hard (wow that was hilarious)
> 
> This is so bad I'm so sorry I suck at writing I'm gonna try a whole new one from Patrick's perspective one day. For now you have this garbage


	3. Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite tiny emos realize their differences and... make up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF  
> RESOLVED ANGST YES  
> okay now that that's out of the way... I hope you like it, my attempt at angst is finally ending as this is the last chapter :)

"Patrick."

"Pete."

"I missed you," They say in unison. Pete chuckles awkwardly.

"You're not okay, are you?"

"No. You?"

"No."

Pete sighs and flops down on Patrick's couch.

"I miss the band." Patrick flops down beside him.

"You know, me too."

"Patrick?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been writing lyrics."

"Me too."

"Fall Out Boy lyrics."

"Me too."

They just sit for a minute, the silence only slightly awkward for once.

"Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I see some more of your lyrics?"

Pete takes a deep breath before answering. "If you sing them for me."

The two boys spend the entire week writing and singing - just like old times. At the end, they have a haphazard collection of confessions, depression, and love songs. The final installment is 100% collaborative.

"You cut me off, I lost my track." Pete's lyrics are everything he can't articulate out loud.

"It not my fault I'm a maniac." Patrick's are an apology and an explanation all at once.

"Do you got room for one more troubled soul?" Patrick admits it to himself and to Pete: he's not quite as strong as he pretends to be.

"I don't think I'm coming home, and I said, 'I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead,'" The duo relives that disastrous night that was the catalyst for all of this, and silent reassurance is present their eyes.

As the chorus comes together, though, a new confession is made.

"Let's be alone together, we could stay young forever," Is a confession to their surprise made by Patrick. He has one last secret, though. Working late into the night, Patrick flies through the work he has so missed, finishing up and putting everything together. 

Without a regret, the remainder of Patrick's shows are cancelled.

Andy and Joe are called.

The two comply.

Patrick assembles what could be their biggest risk and masterpiece yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In less than 24 hours, Fall Out Boy is back. 

\---

"Pete! Get your ass out of bed, we have to go!" Pete is woken by, as surprisingly as everything seems to be, Fall Out Boy. Patrick, Andy and Joe all stand around him, fully dressed and expectant-looking. Just like things used to be. 

"Wha?" Comes the sleepy, confused response.

"We have a gig today, and we're gonna be late!" Patrick says it as if it's the most normal thing in the world, but all the men around Pete are suppressing their grins.

With a little help, Patrick hauls Pete out of bed.

"Fall Out Boy, Pete." Patrick says, matter-of-factly. "We're playing today, so get moving." Pete is about to protest when Patrick hands him a slip of paper.

_Save R &R_

_Light Em Up_

_Miss Missing You_

_Disloyal Order_

_Sugar_

_Thnks_

_7 Minutes_

_What a Catch_

_Alone Together_

A setlist. 

"You know everything on it: we did it all when we wrote, and I've been sending Andy and Joe their parts as we wrote them. Yes, our play will be iffy, but Andy and Joe know the material, they've been working hard all week. It'll be our only gig for a few weeks so we have time to record. This is probably a stupid idea but we _need_  something live and I-I wanted to surprise you..." Patrick trails off, his rant finally ceasing. 

"It's great Patrick, thank you."

"Oh yeah, anytime." They both laugh at the absolute absurdity of Patrick's statement and get ready to play.

\--- 

"I can't believe they took it so well!" Pete muses to Patrick between songs.

"Yeah, but I had faith in them." Patrick responds, turning back to his mic.

"This next song is really special. This song was written by, about, and for Pete Wentz!" He gets some laughs for that. "In all seriousness, though, this song is about something really difficult that Pete got though. Here's 7 Minutes in Heaven!"

Throughout the song, Patrick keeps a careful eye on Pete, watching him for any signs of the pain he saw written across his face that one night. 

Prefacing the next song is Pete Wentz himself. 

"Okay guys. This next song was written by the small, wonderful, fedora-obsessed Patrick Stump, all by himself. I better hear some damn cheers for What A Catch, Donnie!" 

Now in the other direction are the weary glances, but Patrick's actually looking better than he has in a while.

Their last song needs no introduction.

"I don't know where you're going but do you go room for one more troubled soul?" Patrick sneaks secret glances back at Pete, who just smiles in return. Halfway through the song, Patrick's cheeks are rose and it's _definitely_ not from the heat. The crowd adapts quickly to the catchy tune, soon singing along, although some take a break from singing to speculate about what the hell is going on between the lead singer and his bassist.

"And we're starting at the end!" Patrick finishes beautifully as always, only to be cut off by Pete's lips on his own, his bass barely missing Patrick's guitar. And Patrick kisses him right back.

As they walk off stage, Patrick ponders how drastically his life changed in a little over a week. It doesn't take long for him to realize: he's finally happy again. Patrick loves his songs, he loves his band, and he loves Pete Wentz. And now finally, _finally_ , they're all back in his life again. Patrick couldn't be happier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm sappy as hell, I get it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta how did you survive this
> 
> Send me requests on tumblr @emo-trinity-confirmed


End file.
